


Stab me in the heart

by Samara Lilly (Amber_Rose)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 1967 words, Anal Sex, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling, Kissing, M/M, Scene: Soho 1967 (Good Omens), gentle Top Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Rose/pseuds/Samara%20Lilly
Summary: After Aziraphale has given Crowley the holy water, Crowley thinks about them both and decides he has to speak to Aziraphale again. So he visits the book shop, and the evening ends in a way he hasn't expected...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	Stab me in the heart

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended for a fanzine featuring 1967, but sadly I didn't get a spot. But that means you can read it now. Pages says it's 1967 words, and I hope the word count is correct.

“You go too fast for me, Crowley.” Aziraphale gives Crowley a last look before he opens the Bentley’s door and gets out of the car. He doesn’t turn to look back to the shining black vehicle. He can imagine Crowley sitting behind the wheel and looking after him…

Crowley _is_ in fact looking after him. He knows his angel better than anything else in the world, and he can see it in his posture, in the way he holds himself and walks away: Aziraphale is full of conflicting feelings. _You go too fast for me, Crowley._ The words ring in Crowley’s ears. Too fast? They have known each other for bloody six thousand years now! And one day Armageddon is to come, whether they want it or not. It’s just that they don’t know when exactly. It may be in another six thousand years, it may be in two weeks. So what if Armageddon is just around the corner? What if they don’t get many more chances? Crowley looks down at the tartan thermos with holy water. Too fast… How can Aziraphale say something like that? When he looks up, the angel is already out of sight. Too fast… Crowley stares through the windscreen out onto the street, his hands on the steering wheel. He sits perfectly still for a long while until he finally turns the key and the Bentley’s engine roars to life. 

Meanwhile Aziraphale sits in his book shop, only a small lamp is illuminating the area where he sits, glass of red wine in hand, but not really drinking it. His thoughts are still back on the Soho street, in the black car, with his oldest friend. He has done the right thing, hasn’t he? Giving Crowley the holy water. But leaving him like this… It feels like a big mistake. Maybe he should have agreed to let Crowley drive him somewhere. But it’s too late now. Crowley will have gone home by now, Aziraphale supposes. Alone. Just like him… 

A knock at the shop’s door makes Aziraphale sigh. It’s long after closing hour. He isn’t even up to getting up to take a look who is this impertinent to knock at his door this late. But when the someone at the door doesn’t give up, Aziraphale gets up, annoyed as he is, and makes his way to the door. He turns the key, pulls the door open and freezes.  
“Crowley!”  
“Why? Why do you do this to me?” snarls Crowley and strides past him into the shop. Aziraphale has no other choice but to lock up again and follow him.  
“What are you doing here? It’s late, and I’m not up for a visit.”  
“Nonsense. We have spent whole nights drinking and talking.”  
“What do you want to talk about, then?” sighs Aziraphale. 

“I want to know how you always find a new way to stab me in the heart and twist the handle of what ever instrument you just used to cause me even more pain! I thought we were friends! How can you do this to me over and over again?”  
Aziraphale frowns. He has no clue what Crowley’s talking about. “I beg your pardon? I haven’t done anything.”  
“No! Of course! Innocent angel and all that! Listen, Aziraphale!” Crowley takes off his glasses and puts them folded into the breast pocket of his perfectly tailored jacket. His golden eyes gleam in the dim light of the shop and he approaches Aziraphale until they stand only a foot apart. A shiver runs down Aziraphale’s spine.  
“I’m done, angel! I can’t go on like this! You can’t give me holy water and then leave me like you did!”  
“Like what, Crowley? I don’t understand!”  
“See? That’s your problem! You don’t understand anything, angel! Oh, for Satan’s sake!”

Crowley grabs Aziraphale by the shoulders and crashes their mouths together - desperate, hungry, longingly. The kiss is nothing like he has imagined it thousands of times. He had thought their first ever kiss would be tender, loving, sensual. This kiss is nothing like this. And it takes his short circuited brain at least 15 seconds until it registers that - the angel is not retreating. Instead, Aziraphale is kissing him back. Crowley’s eyes fly open again, and before he can start to retreat, two perfectly manicured hands grab the lapels of his black jacket and pull him close. 

Aziraphale hears the surprised sound Crowley makes and would smile, if he could. But his lips and tongue are much too occupied plundering Crowley’s mouth, and doesn’t this feel amazing?! He feels like this may be his only chance to have this, to feel this and for once in his life not care about the consequences. _You go too fast for me, Crowley…_

For a few moments Crowley seems to be the slow one - until he comes to life again. He moves quickly, crowds Aziraphale against one of his book shelves and presses them both flush together. His hands roam over Aziraphale’s arms, his shoulders and chest, fumble with the buttons of his waistcoat. Aziraphale’s join them, and together they make quick work of every button and zip, of shirtsleeves and belts, shoes and socks. The last layers between them are their pants. They grind against one another, breathless with this new sensation. Crowley gropes Aziraphale’s arse, while he nips at the soft skin beneath Aziraphale’s chin. 

“You feel like heaven…” he breathes against the angel’s heated skin.  
“And you feel like sin, my darling…”  
A surge of lust rushes through Crowley’s body and heats his skin even more. His hand sneaks beneath the elastic of Aziraphale’s pants and finds his cock hard and leaking. Aziraphale shudders and gasps for breath. Crowley’s touch is sinfully good, but also still reverent and gentle.  
“Off. I need to feel you…” demands Crowley. Aziraphale hastens to shove his pants down and slightly loses his balance. 

“Whow, careful, angel!” Crowley catches him and grins. “I think you really need someone to take care of you.” With this he scoops Aziraphale up onto his arms and carries him over to the sofa in the back where he puts him down again. Aziraphale looks up at him, his blue eyes dark with desire.  
“Will you take care of me, then?” he asks, voice hushed.  
“Not too fast?”  
“We wasted too much time already…”

Crowley licks his lips and gets rid of his pants. Gloriously naked he climbs onto the sofa, too, and straddles Aziraphale’s lap. He cups Aziraphale’s flushed cheeks in his palms. “You sure?”  
“Never been more sure. I’m yours.”  
With a groan Crowley claims Aziraphale’s mouth again. Hands and lips and tongues move over every inch of skin they can reach. Teeth clash in heated kisses, and breaths mingle. Crowley is working miraculously slick fingers into Aziraphale’s body. The angel writhes and pants, his hands bunch up the fabric of the old throw on the sofa. 

“Please tell me you’re ready, Aziraphale… I can’t wait any longer…”  
“Take me, Crowley… please!”  
Crowley growls low in his throat. He spreads more slickness on his erect cock and very slowly and carefully sinks in. He has to wait for a moment. Never has he felt anything like this. Aziraphale’s body is gripping him with force and celestial heat, and Aziraphale’s arms come up to pull him close.  
“Am I in heaven?” he whispers directly into Crowley’s ear. Crowley feels a shiver run down his spine. Never in six millennia has _he_ come closer to heaven again since his fall… He blinks, trying to get rid of some tears that threaten to embarrass him. He wants to say something, but can’t. Instead he snakes his arms around Aziraphale’s chest and holds on for dear life. 

“Never leave me, angel. Please never leave me…” he chokes.  
“Not in another 6.000 years, my dearest demon…”  
With a deep sigh Crowley pulls nearly all the way out and slowly pushes back in. Aziraphale throws his head back. He has never felt something like this before. The heat between their bodies makes them both sweat. Their lips meet again, this time much more gently. The languorous slide of their tongues soothes the first heat without ending it. They can’t seem to get close enough, and for a while it’s just this: slow and deep with never-ending kisses and touches everywhere they can reach. Crowley feels Aziraphale’s hard cock trapped between their bellies. Heat pools at the end of his spine, makes him want to move faster. 

Aziraphale feels it, too. His pale curls are sweaty against his forehead, and he wiggles his butt. Crowley looks at him. His eyes are fully golden, his slitted pupils blown wide, his red hair a mess where Aziraphale has groped at it.  
“Harder…” whispers Aziraphale. The blush on his cheeks deepens, but he keeps staring into Crowley’s magnificent eyes. The demon gives him another sweet kiss and murmurs against his lips: “What ever you need. You only ever have to ask.”  
“Then fuck me harder.”  
Crowley smiles and does exactly that. 

The sound of skin slapping on skin, of panting and groaning fills the air in the book shop, hushed words of affection mingled into it. Crowley is thrusting hard and fast, his face full of bliss and wonder. Aziraphale in this state is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Crowley manages to keep the pace of his hips and stay upright while snaking a hand between their bodies to stroke Aziraphale in time with his thrusts. Aziraphale cries out and comes hot and messy between them, his body clenching around the demon, and Crowley follows suit, tumbling into the most spectacular climax he ever had. 

*

“Well, was that still too fast?” asks a smiling Crowley, his voice gentle. Aziraphale seems to be glowing. He looks so soft and more relaxed than Crowley has ever seen him before. They are still lying on the sofa, snuggled close and covered by the old throw now.  
“It was fast, but… maybe sometime it’s just me being too slow. Maybe I was just being… selfish. And a coward. But if you just give me time, then I promise not to disappoint you again.”  
“Whoa, angel, stop it and look at me.”  
Crowley lifts Aziraphale’s chin with a gentle forefinger. Aziraphale’s eyelashes flutter, but he now looks at Crowley.  
“You don’t have to prove anything to me. Just… be honest. Do you really want this? Do you want us? Because I don’t want you to leave me again.”  
“What about the holy water?”  
Crowley’s gaze flickers. “I told you. It’s just for insurance. I promise never to use it on myself. Do you believe me?”  
Aziraphale thinks for a moment. Then he nods. “I do. But… maybe I need a little more time. This is all new to me.”  
Crowley sighs, but he understands. “Angel, I have waited almost 6000 years for you. Do you really think I wouldn’t be able to wait another few years? I want you to be ready. All I want is to be sure you don’t change your mind. About us.”  
“I won’t.” Aziraphale caresses Crowley’s cheek and kisses him sweetly. “Ever. I…”  
“Shh…” Crowley put’s a finger onto Aziraphale’s lips. “You don’t have to say it now. In your own time.”  
Aziraphale sighs. He _wants_ to say it, but Crowley is right. He needs time. And Crowley is willing to give him all the time he needs.  
“Thank you, my dear. For everything.”  
“My pleasure. Let’s just… enjoy this for a while. And tomorrow I will call off the robbery.”  
Aziraphale smiles at him, then snuggles close again. “Sounds wonderful…”  
Crowley closes his eyes. As marvelous as this feels, he knows this is just the beginning. And he happily looks forward to what’s to come for them.


End file.
